


"They let the BLOODY fire out!"

by Lucyverse



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: BAMF Ralph, Corporal Punishment, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mildly Dubious Consent, No Smut, Out of Character, Ralph is done with this bullshit, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucyverse/pseuds/Lucyverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ralph punishes Jack for scuppering their chances of getting rescued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"They let the BLOODY fire out!"

‘You know the rules.’

Jack’s face turned hot, glancing back and forth between Ralph and Piggy. He hadn’t expected the argument to go this far, as dire as the situation was. The fire had been his responsibility after all; the responsibility of the hunters in general but predominantly his own, as the leader. He was well aware of the rules regarding the fire watch but had foolishly decided that Ralph wouldn’t have the bottle to actually go through with chastisement, should they fail to perform their duty. Smacking was, after all, not something that young boys did to other young boys, with the littleuns being an exception.

Jack fiddled with his hat – then took it off altogether to fist into one hand; he was used to winning these sorts of confrontations but Ralph was unnaturally wound up today and having a brawl didn't seem the wisest idea, seeing as the red head was still exhausted from the hunt. He really wasn't sorry -- he had been prioritising their survival after all -- but perhaps a tentative apology would calm things down.

'Alright, alright. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s a bit bloody late for “sorry,” don’t you think? _’_ Ralph said, his voice unusually menacing, ‘there was a ship. A _ship_. And if you idiots hadn’t been pig-chasing out in the forest and kept the fire lit, it might have seen us. We could have been rescued; _we could have gone home!_ ’

Jack’s pale cheeks turned red, matching his hair. His mind flashed to his mistake. Perhaps it _would_ have been a wiser idea to leave at least one of the hunters behind to watch the flames (just to avoid this sort of nagging.) But they _needed_ meat. What was the use taking chances with a boat that may not even see them and risk starving to death? Ralph didn’t understand.

‘You don’t understand,’ Jack said out loud, grinding his teeth like a tiger, ‘we need _meat_ , not fires. I said I was sorry, I apologised. We can light it up again—’

‘You broke the rules,’ Ralph cut in fiercely, looking uncharacteristically dangerous despite his smaller stature, ‘it was _your_ responsibility to keep the fire going; so now you’re going to be an example to the others of what happens if you don’t play your part around here.’

Jack opened his mouth. And then closed it again. His bright blue eyes darted around the group, half hoping that someone might speak up for him. He glanced at Roger but Roger didn’t look back. Simon kept his head down, studying the sand. Piggy looked embarrassed as well, constantly hitching his spectacles up his nose. No one was going to speak up.

‘You wouldn’t lay one finger on me,’ Jack sneered in Ralph’s face, though he sounded rather uncertain of himself, ‘even so, whatever happened to democracy? I propose a vote.’

The hunters were shifting uncomfortably. Ralph, his face hard as a stone, crossed his arms over his chest, ‘alright then. We’ll have a vote. Two options — either you’re smacked or you’re banished from the group for an entire week.’

This was not the response Jack was anticipating. His face showed it.  He looked around again with a tiny shred of hope that somebody might intervene. There was silence, all eyes on Ralph, who was already seating himself on one of the boulders nearby, waiting for the verdict.

’Who votes for banishment?’

Everyone was still, completely mortified. Nobody raised their hand.

'And for smacking?'

More silence. And then little Johnny's hand went up. And then Bill's. And Percival's. And SamnEric’s. And Simon's and Piggy's. When every hand was in the air, Jack's arms went up to hug himself. Then they fell back to his sides and he gave Ralph a filthy stare, ' _fine_.’

His grim utter of acceptance sounded incredibly apprehensive, as venemous as it was. But the red head put his hat down, wiped his bloody hands on his shorts and slowly made his way over to the center of the ring, where Ralph was waiting expectantly. He went to rest himself across the younger boy’s lap but Ralph reached out and carefully pushed him back.

‘Shorts down,’ he ordered in a voice made of steel and Jack looked like he was going to tear his head from his shoulders. The other boys were well accustomed to the sight of naked buttocks but not in this context. This wasn’t how Jack remembered punishment; a few flicks of the cane against the seat of his school trousers and a fond swat from his mother if she caught him with his finger in the jam jar. He never remembered having to remove his clothes.

His struggled with the buttons, hands trembling too hard to push them through the slits but Ralph caught his wrists and unbuttoned them himself, pulling them right now until they pooled at the choir boy’s ankles. The pressure in Jack’s chest got tighter and he stepped out of his trousers quickly, biting down on his silver tongue as Ralph proceeded to take hold of the small white briefs and tugged them down as well. By now, everyone was looking everywhere but the boulder where Ralph sat, with Jack standing beside him stripped of any clothes. Ralph, who was going a little pink himself, nodded and Jack carefully laid himself over his knees.

Ralph had never smacked anyone before, unsurprisingly. He had never really been smacked himself, with the exception being the occasional rap on the knuckles he received at school, courtesy of his English teacher. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to have Jack naked for this punishment. Embarrassment perhaps? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted to teach the arrogant prat a lesson he would never forget.

‘Right then,’ he murmured, placing a hand on one of those faintly freckled cheeks. He cleared his throat. Then he cleared it again. And then he carefully lifted his hand and brought it down again with a sharp _smack_.

His palm bounced off the pale skin, leaving the faintest little mark. He felt Jack flinch but he didn’t say anything, nor did he cry out or protest. He laid there, lips tight together, eyes squeezed shut. Ralph tried again, harder this time. Another mark, pinker. Three more times and there was a rosy hue beginning to spread from one cheek to another, making the skin warm and sore. Jack remained quiet but his long legs would kick out every now and then, his teeth gritting in something close to fury.

He actually thought about the fire and the ship. If he had kept it lit, if the ship had seen them, they might have been on their way home by now. As much as he attempted to convince himself that it was impossible -- that the damned boat would have sailed on by without noticing regardless if there was a fire – his mind was plagued with all the “what-ifs.” What if the boat had seen them? What if they had missed out on their only chance of getting off this island? What if…?

It was too late for all that. It was done and now Jack was facing his unjust punishment like a man. He couldn't wait until this was finished; Ralph would wish he had died in that plane crash when Jack was finished with him.

_How was it possible to dislike someone so intensely while loving them at the same time?_

Piggy hitched up his glasses again, wondering if he should try and distract the littleuns for a while with his stories about Camberley. It wouldn’t have done any good. About ten smacks in and Jack’s bottom was as pink as the coral.

‘Bloody hell, enough!’ The choir boy cried at last, beginning to thrash, ‘you’ve made your point, I won’t do it again. This is barbaric, let me go!’

‘I’ll stop when I’m ready,’ Ralph snapped, slapping the sore flesh harder, ‘it’s quite simple Jack; don’t break the rules and you won’t get smacked.’

'Get off, damn you, I'll have your blood for this!'

'Oh shut up, Jack. I'm sick of your voice.'

Jack growled. His bottom had to be crimson by now, from the way Ralph was thrashing it like a drum. The other boys had completely cut themselves off from the whole bizarre situation, drawing shapes in the sand and pretending they were home listening to the Saturday night radio instead of watching their lead hunter get his hide tanned on a deserted island.

Five minutes of loud, sharp smacks and Jack finally let out a frustrated sob. He felt so angry. Angry because he was allowing this to happen, angry because Ralph was ruining everything; angry because he wanted to hunt and kill and feel the warmth of blood and guts on his hands but Ralph made it seem like such an evil thing to do.

It wasn't evil. Didn't they sacrifice lambs for the greater good in the Bible? _They_ _needed_ _meat_.

‘Stop, _stop_!' Jack’s voice wobbled on the edge of hysteria, struggling to keep himself together, ‘Dammit, I'll light it again, I’ll keep it lit all night, I promise!’

Ralph didn’t let up. In fact, all these promises brought his hand down harder, until Jack howled in despair.

‘This is a lesson to all of you,’ Ralph addressed the others, particularly the hunting group, still spanking as he spoke, ‘as to what happens when you _don’t. Follow. Rules_.’

The last three words were emphasized with a hefty whack that made Jack wail like a baby. He could hardly believe he was crying in front of everybody but he couldn’t help it. It hurt. And he deserved it. He deserved to hurt.

Then Ralph stopped. Jack prayed that it might be over but the blond boy kept his arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

‘Will you keep watch of the fire from now on?’

‘Yes!’ Jack cried, tears spilling down his cheeks.

'No more hunting all day and leaving me to do all the work?'

‘I promise Ralph, I promise! Please, enough, I can’t take anymore!’

This exclamation was followed by twenty more stinging slaps that almost had Jack hoarse from yelling, his bottom redder than the blood on the hunter’s faces. He didn’t even care if they saw him now; he just wanted Ralph to stop. He felt like his entire head would explode if he was over his knee any longer.

‘…18, 19, 20!’ Ralph finished with three hefty smacks on Jack’s thighs and gently began to rub the burning cheeks below him, ‘we’re finished.’

Jack sniffled furiously, lifting a hand to wipe the sticky stuff away from his nose. He couldn’t remember crying so hard in his life. Father didn’t like crying. It wasn’t something big boys did, he said. Ever since his mother died, Jack had no choice but to be a big boy.

A few of the littleuns sniggered as Jack pulled himself up and reclaimed his discarded clothes; but Ralph glared at them so fiercely, they shut up right away.

‘There’s to be no laughing,’ the boy growled, ‘all of you go and help get the pig ready to eat. Jack, you should head down to the shelters. I’m not finished with you yet.’

Jack bit back a snarl but he didn’t say a word. He had learned quickly that crossing Ralph was a bigger mistake than he thought, no matter how much he wanted to strangle the other boy. Head hanged like a kicked puppy, he wandered down to the beach where the sticks and plants stood in clumsy array to form the shape of a small house, nervous of what Ralph had in store for him next.

* * *

An hour later and Jack felt slightly better. He slept for a while and woke up thinking it might have all been a dream; but the faint throbbing in his buttocks dismissed this possibility shortly afterwards. Ralph hadn’t returned yet. The smell of cooked meat wafted eerily from the top of the mountain. So Jack was going to go without supper as well? Completely unfair, seeing as he was the one who caught the pig in the first place and now Piggy would probably live up to his name by guzzling the entire lot.

His stomach rumbled in hunger. If Ralph planned on starving him as part of the punishment, it was certainly working.

Another hour and the blond boy eventually showed up, carrying Jack’s hat in one hand and half a coconut in the other. As soon as he crawled into the shelter, the smell of pig had Jack sniffing the air like a mouse.

‘Is that for me?’

Ralph looked at him, grinned and held out the choir hat; three large chunks of meat lay inside, pulled from the thickest part of the sow, ‘wasn’t going to let you starve, was I?’

Jack was so hungry he almost forgot his manners; he shoved the food down before Ralph could change his mind, tearing through the flesh and even chomping his way around the fat until all that was left was the grease on his fingers. Then he took up the coconut and saw it was full of water from the river; thirsty from the dry, salty meal, he gulped that down too.

Ralph waited patiently and once Jack had wiped the last drop of water from his chin, he asked, ‘are you alright?’

‘Of course I am,’ Jack replied, slightly annoyed; but then he nibbled the loose skin on his wet lips, ‘the others are laughing at me.’

‘They’re not. They’re pretending it never happened – and if anyone teases you, they’ll have me to answer to. That’s why I told you to come here; I didn’t want them hassling you over dinner.’

‘I don’t want your pity. If you think I'm ever going to let you do that again, you're an idiot.'

‘It isn’t _pity_ ,’ Ralph shuffled closer to his taller companion, looking up at him through a screen of hair, ‘you deserved every swat but you faced up to what you did and accepted the consequences. I respect you for that, Jack.’

Jack stared at him. He had been stripped and spanked and complained like an infant through the entire thing and Ralph _respected_ him?

They sat there in silence for a moment, both a bit angry and scared and frustrated at the same time. They could hear the other boys hallooing from above. Jack leaned over until his cheek was pressed against Ralph’s blond head.

‘I'm not sorry about the hunting. But I suppose I ought to have left someone with the fire...maybe. And even though I'm definitely going to get you back for humiliating me like that, I just wanted to say that I don't hate you.'

‘I don't hate you either,’ said Ralph and then he added, almost nervously, ‘believe it or not, I like you, Jack. You _are_ a complete rotter but that’s okay.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. It’s okay so long as you’re _my_ rotter.’

And before Jack could even open his mouth to respond, Ralph leaned up and planted a feather-light kiss right in the center of his plush, pink lips.


End file.
